‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. When they were going home she asked her mother why she and Gwen and Alice had cried.
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